


Here Comes the Sun

by jive



Series: Tales from For Goodness' Cakes [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Police, Fluff, M/M, Reaper76 Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 01:32:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9411491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jive/pseuds/jive
Summary: Before he even has a moment to register what he's saying and put a stop to it, his mouth drops a bomb that takes the both of them by surprise.“I can play guitar. If you're okay with it, I can fill in. I'm off Tuesday.”Day 5 of Reaper76Week - "Over the Airwaves"





	

**Author's Note:**

> A sidestory for [I've Got You in My Slice ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7961578/chapters/18208633), my Bakery AU.

Gabriel catches Jack looking utterly despondent one morning, brows furrowed and a very uncharacteristic frown on his face. He's staring at his phone, and whatever seems to have upset him must be serious, given how Jack doesn't even seem to notice he had a new customer.

“Why the long face?” Gabriel asks as he lets the door swing quiet shut behind him.

“Oh!” Jack gasps, visibly startled by Gabriel's sudden presence in the store. He hastily straightens up off from where he's leaning over the counter and tries to put on a smile. “Good Morning, Gabriel.”

It's only been a few months, but it's long enough to know the differences in Jack's expressions. Jack is giving him a fake, customer service smile, and that doesn't sit well at all with him. Gabriel frowns.

“Did something happen?” he asks again. Daily routine moves his body to fetch a set of tongs and a tray, and Gabriel catches himself unconsciously browsing the shelves for his breakfast as he continues to talk with Jack.

“You could say that, yeah,” Jack sighs. The fake smile drops off his face and he looks down at his phone with a gloomy expression on his face before putting it away. He finishes organizing the tray of macarons that had previously sat temporarily forgotten in front of him and sets it in its proper place inside the refrigerated display case.

“Wanna tell me about it?” Gabriel goes with a western omelette breakfast quiche — which he convinced Jack to start making after being scolded for choosing a croissant for 4 days in a row just to spite Jack after he realized Jack was intentionally hiding his favorite sour cream and chives scones from him — this morning, and hands the tray and tongs over.

Jack shrugs noncommittally at first, as he pops the quiche into the small toaster oven beside the coffee machine, and it's only after he gets Gabriel's coffee that he actually answers.

“So you know how I have Family Fundays now?”

Gabriel nods, eyes briefly glancing over to the corner of the bakery near the cafe area where a low stage is located — made significantly less conspicuous by the standing baskets of baguettes and other easily-moved displays of baked goods — and recalling the chalkboard sign outside advertising story hours and other family-friendly entertainment on Tuesday nights at the bakery.

“Well, I originally had my buddy Lúcio scheduled to come in and do a puppet show, but-” Jack began, taking the now-warmed and toasted quiche from the oven.

“Wait, _the_ Lúcio? That really famous DJ?” Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up. The implication that Jack knows someone so famous — and had him do something so local and small, to boot — surprised him so much he had to stop and recount his coins before handing it over to Jack.

“Yeah, that Lúcio. He and I have been friends for almost 10 years now. We met on the internet,” Jack replied, tone nonchalant as if he were talking about something so mundane as the weather. “Anyway, he said he was gonna be in town Tuesday, offered to come visit me and do a puppet show for the kids. But something came up so now he can't make it, and I don't have anything lined up to replace him.”

A dispirited sigh falls from Jack's lips as he hands Gabriel back his change in bills and slides the tray of coffee, quiche, and the scone he didn't order but knows better than to protest about. And damn if the sadness on Jack's face didn't tug at Gabriel's heartstrings.

Before he even has a moment to register what he's saying and put a stop to it, his mouth drops a bomb that takes the both of them by surprise.

“I can play guitar. If you're okay with it, I can fill in. I'm off Tuesday.”

“Really?!” The way Jack's face lights up immediately drives the nail into the proverbial coffin. Even if there had been a chance for Gabriel to take his words back, there was no possible way on earth for him to do it now. He couldn't bear to make Jack upset again.

“Yeah, I mean, I'm a little rusty, but so long as you don't ask me to play something too difficult or something like _Wonderwall_ , it should be okay.”

“Oh man, that'd be great! You're a lifesaver, Gabriel! Thank you so much!” Jack's smile beams so brightly that Gabriel can feel his insides melting from how warm he feels.

“Yeah, no problem,” he replies coolly.

Except, there is a problem. Two problems. Two very big problems that come to mind the second he sits down in the cafe area. He tries not to scream when he bites into the quiche — partially from the realization, and partially from his own stupidity at not letting the very very hot pastry cool down a little first.

 

“Jesse, I'm gonna need my guitar back,” Gabriel says as he approaches Jesse’s desk.

“Huh?” Jesse looks up at him as if he'd grown two heads. “Boss, you sold it to me, remember? ‘Less you plan on giving my money back…”

“Okay, let me rephrase,” Gabriel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Will you let me borrow my- _your_ guitar? I need for about a week and I'll give it right back.”

Still looking at him with a raised eyebrow, Jesse replies, “Yeah, sure. I'll bring it in tomorrow.”

“Thanks. I owe you,” Gabriel replies. He tries to get away before Jesse decides to ask any questions, but only makes it two steps before Jesse speaks up again.

“Whacha needin’ it for anyway? Planning on serenading someone with it?” he laughs.

Gabriel frowns. “No. Jack's act for Tuesday night bailed on him, and I offered to help him out.”

"By playing guitar?” There's a beat of silence before the confused expression on Jesse's face changes to one of revelation. “Jack, as in the bakery owner, Jack? Boy howdy, boss, you really _are_ planning on serenading him! How romanti-”

Before Jesse even has a chance to finish that word, Gabriel lifts the hat off of Jesse's head and jams it into his face. “I'm not serenading anyone. I'm just helping him out of a tight spot. Got it?”

Jesse nods his head in affirmation from beneath the hat, giving a thumbs up and a muffled, “Gotcha, boss.”

With that taken care of, Gabriel goes to Ana's office, taking a deep breath before stepping inside.

 

“Ana, I need Tuesday off,” Gabriel says, clasping his together in a way that can't be misinterpreted as anything but begging, “I'll take traffic duty for a week and babysit Fareeha for a weekend if you let me have it off. _Please_.”

Ana raises an eyebrow, clearly curious as to why Gabriel would make such a sudden request. Rather than ask, however, she merely replies with, “Make it two weekends and you've got Tuesday off.”

“Yes! Thank you!” Gabriel fights the urge to pump his fist happily as he walks back out of the office.

He later realizes, when he looks at the calendar stuck to the front of his fridge at home, why exactly it was so easy to get Ana agree to let him have the day off.

...he was already scheduled to have off that day. He hadn't been lying when he told Jack he had the day off, but self-doubt and his own paranoia had landed him with traffic duty and two weekends of babysitting.

Oh well.

 

Sure enough, Jesse makes good on his word, and Gabriel spends the next several days practicing on his old acoustic guitar to prepare and reacquaint himself with the hobby he had dedicated so many years of his teenage life to.

The notes, the chords, hand positions and movements come back to him just as naturally as a duck takes to swimming. When he sits down in the chair on the tiny stage inside of Jack's Bakery, he finds his nerves as steady and as calm as ever. Countless eyes and smiling faces look up at him, waiting eagerly for his song to start, but only one pair of stormy blues really matter to Gabriel.

Briefly, he locks gazes with Jack, who’s watching him from behind the counter, smiling fondly at him, and he feels his heart skip a beat at the brief moment of eye contact. Jack gives an encouraging nod at him, and Gabriel takes a deep breath before smiling back at the children's faces in the front row and strums his first note.

“ _Little darling, it's been a long, cold, lonely winter…_ ” he begins to sing.

For the next few hours, Gabriel sings a mix of oldies but goodies, and some of the newer songs that the children were familiar with and could sing along to. Inwardly, he thanked Fareeha for indirectly enlightening him on current music, as the smiles on the numerous faces in the bakery brought a happiness and excitement he hadn't felt in years since he stopped playing the guitar.

Occasionally, movement will catch the corner of his eye and he spots Jack going about his business in the bakery. Sometimes Jack moves to the beat of the music, sometimes he dances along with an over-excited child whose parents are too immersed in Gabriel’s song to help expend the extra energy, and sometimes — the thing Gabriel loves seeing him do the most — Jack will quietly sing along when he thinks everyone is too busy watching Gabriel to notice.

But Gabriel notices, perhaps a bit too much, and each and every time he spots Jack around the store, he feels the rhythm of his heart stutter just a little bit faster.

Gabriel's performance ends around 8 o’clock, when the families all start heading home for bedtime. Some of them stop by on their way out to chat and thank Gabriel for his wonderful performance, others express their gratitude for the things Gabriel has helped them with while on-duty. Nevertheless, the smiles on their faces speak well enough about Gabriel's performance that he almost feels like picking up the guitar again.

“That was really wonderful,” Jack comments as he tosses away a few lingering bits of trash from the floor and flips the sign on the door from Open to Closed. “Thank you again for helping me out, I really appreciate it.”

The warm smile on Jack's face sparks a heat in the tips of Gabriel's ears and he tries to keep his voice as level as possible when he replies with, “Ah, it was nothing. I had fun and I'm glad I could help.” He slings the guitar to his back and out of the way so he can help rearrange the chairs to how they should look, but only manages to orient two before Jack stops him.

“No, I really do mean it. _Thank you_ ,” he smiles as he fetches something from behind the register and walks back over to Gabriel. “Here, as thanks.”

Gabriel can already tell from sight alone what it is Jack plans on giving him, and he immediately holds up a hand to refuse the envelope and the check inside it. “Nope. You don't need to thank me. _Seriously_ ,” he he repeats, “I was happy to do it.”

“But I need to pay you back somehow. You did me a favor, and it wouldn't feel right paying you with stuff I sometimes give you for free anyway,” Jack protests, frowning.

“You don't have to pay me back anything, Jack.”

“But-!”

Knowing Jack isn't likely to give up, Gabriel thinks for a moment before he comes up with a solution.

“Okay, fine. I know how you can pay me back,” he says, smirking.

“How?”

‘ _By going on a date with me_ ,’ his heart wants him to say.

“Sing along with me next time.”


End file.
